Professor Christmas
by DarkAngelSnapeLover
Summary: While Hogwarts prepares for the Christmas season, one professor sits alone. Professor Snape is grading deplorable papers from uninterested potion students, and he's feeling defeated and unappreciated. When he discovers a mysterious book sitting on a table in his classroom, will he have an encounter that changes everything? One-shot.


The castle was decorated with charm. Wreaths hung on every door, and some of the major doorways and archways had mistletoe above them. Snow floated above the diners in the Great Hall, gently landing on bare cheeks and hands like a light kiss from the heavens. Wet boots and gloves were hung in front of the fireplaces with hover charms, and kettles were constantly filled with hot cocoa or hot tea, whatever the students preferred. It was the Christmas season, and students were counting the days until Christmas vacation.

While the people above him enjoyed companionship, Professor Snape sipped room temperature tea as he looked to the parchment pages spread before him. He knew he'd be the last teacher demanding assignments before the break, but the lack of good work depressed him yet again. His craft was unappreciated. How useful was a potion anyway? If you need to unclog your sink or knock out your in-laws, you use a spell or incantation because there's no waiting; you simply say a few things and your results are there.

Professor Snape felt defeated. He sighed quietly and leaned back in his chair. This allowed him to see into the classroom. On one of the front desks was a small black book. No hook was there before, and it definitely wasn't a leftover textbook because it was too thin.

Curiosity took over. Professor Snape moved into the classroom, looking around to see if nayone nearby could claim the tiny book. He was still very much alone, so he picked up the book to examine the spine and covers for markings. Aside from a gouge on the front cover and a scratch on the spine, the book was in perfect condition. Only the inside could give him any clues now, so he opened the front cover and flipped through a few of the pages.

"I knew you couldn't resist such a strange book," a female voice called, a light giggling following her words. Professor Snape dropped the book in shock. It slid across the floor until it hit the toes of matching black boots. "Did you miss me, Professor?"

"Midnight," he whispered, looking up. His former student, Midnight Grey, stood with a light smile on her face. Her hair, usually straight and black, was brown now and pulled back in neat braids. A few boughs of holly were placed within the braids for some holiday flaire.

"It's Emily now," she said, sighing happily as she walked around the cauldrons. "I know many of the intellectual types do well in here because they memorize the textbooks. Does anyone actually take interest in the subject or are we still the only ones?" she asked, pausing at a station that still had a few leftover ingredients on the cutting board. "Tsk, tsk, they didn't put away their leftover blisterwart and it's bad now."

"You're still the only one," Professor Snape whispered, clearing his throat first. "Why did you come back here? I thought you were in London working with the Ministry."

"Christmas at Hogwarts was always a treat. I turned down three Christmases in Romania to stay here for the holidays. When the Ministry wanted you to fact check my latest research paper about the importance of fresh ingredients in medicine, I bought a journal and flew here by broom. It was cold, but every moment was worth it," she smiled, looking around the room, even high up to the ceiling. "You're the only one who hasn't decorated for the holidays. Where's your holiday spirit?"

"I've been busy," he admitted. To his surprise, she scoffed. "I give my students assignments until they leave for their Christmas vacation. This requires me to do a great deal of work. I'm tired from it, so I have yet to decorate."

"I'm going to cut the crap now, Severus," she sighed, opening her black travel cloak. Underneath the thick winter cloak was a bright red and green dress, each panel accented with gold trim. "I work at the Ministry as one of the many ghost workers. I have an assistant, and they do everything according to my orders. I...died on Christmas Eve my first Christmas away from Hogwarts. It was tragic. I know nothing about what happened because I was Emily for those days. When Christmas celebrations finished around me on the twenty-sixth, I turned back into Midnight, only I was a little less tangible," she smiled. "Now, I live as a ghost until Christmas celebrations begin. Then, I become who you see now, dress and all. I thought of taking the name Holly, but my first party host called me Emily by mistake, so the name stuck," she grinned. "And now, I've returned to help with Midnight's work, but I'm also here to celebrate Christmas."

"What does that have to do with me?" Professor Snape asked. Emily smiled, moving to stand beside him. "And why did no one tell me you passed? You were my greatest pupil."

"I didn't want to worry you," she assured him, patting his arm. "And this trip has everything to do with you. I remembered how lonely you were at Christmas. You'd stay here throughout your break, never to appear through the break. You need to experience the joys of Christmas. You need to accept companionship and make yourself happier through the gifts of Christmas."

Professor Snape remained silent. He liked seeing his star pupil again, but she was meddling in something she had no business knowing about. Christmas was his least favorite time of the entire year, second to only Halloween. His reasons were highly personal, and he stepped away from Emily with a light sigh.

"Professor, being human only at Christmas gave me some extra abilities. I can experience Christmases of the past, present, and future. I can embody anyone on these journeys. I can experience a Christmas in the present as Headmaster Dumbledore without changing any outcomes. It's amazing, really," she smiled, moving closer to him. "I don't know how I attained these abilities, but I cherish them, and I respect them. I've seen what you don't want me to know about, each and everyone one."

"That's a breach of my privacy! How dare you do something like that!" Snape hissed. Emily smiled again, pulling out her wand and casting an incantation. Decorations now hung from every beam of the roof. "Stop decorating! Please, just leave me to my tasks!"

"I've already handled that. I see why you're so depressed now. Those papers were deplorable. I don't know why potions gets no respect, Professor, but it doesn't really matter right now. Your work is done. Cancel your other assignments and let me teach you what I can about the Christmas spirit."

"I'm not willing to do that. Please, just leave me to my solitude. I prefer it that way," Professor Snape whispered with a defeated tone. He closed his office door behind him, separating him from Emily's prying eyes.

Emily leaned against the door and sighed quietly, "You've never known anything but solitude during the holidays. Your mother left you alone in your room-"

"Stop it!"

"Then you were alone in the Slytherin commonroom-"

"Stop it!"

"And now you're alone in a dungeon-"

"STOP IT!" Professor Snape roared.

Though the door was still closed tight, Emily appeared in the room somehow. Professor Snape sank to the floor, feeling even more defeated than before. The bad memories playing in his mind made him want to burst into loud, raucous sobs, but he withheld the urge, watching Emil closely as she lit a few more candles, making the room brighter.

"You never had to do anything alone, Severus. You've always had people who cared about you, even if they're now a part of your past, unable to touch the present or the future because of Death. We bring those people back through tradition. By repeating what they did before you...you bring them back," she whispered, pulling a potion from her pocket and dripping it onto a clean area of floor in the corner. A Christmas tree appeared, clean of any decorations.

Emily conjured the necessary items onto the rest of the bare floor, the long strand of Christmas lights landing at Professor Snape's feet. He tucked them in further, watching as she used her wand to place garland around the tree. When the gold, red, and green strands were on the tree, the spirits of three young boys frolicked through the room.

"My three young brothers did the garland strands. The youngest went first, placing the gold strand. The middle child placed the green strand, the oldest the red. This kept them from fighting over who did what," she whispered with a light smirk. She watched the three chase each other violently over a ghostly box of Every Flavor Beans.

Emily then used her wand to put the lights onto the tree. When she conjured a power source that illuminated the room in white light, two more spirits appeared. The taller of the two was Midnight's mother, a former classmate of Professor Snape's. She moved a ghostly tray of cookies around the room, starting with young Midnight still in her Hogwarts uniform. Her black hair, flowing down to her waist, flew behind her as she chased her brother playfully.

"Mom and I did the lights. She was the tallest female, so she had to do the higher strands. Her sister and mother used to join her, but they moved to the tropics and never celebrated Christmas again. They died warm and lonely, their family members trapped a thousand miles away by snow. I've worked my magic with them as well," she grinned, placing two tiny snow globes onto the tree, both featuring beach scenes inside their clear bubbles. Two more ghosts appeared, both of them fading into the lovely scene.

"My father did this part. Of the six of us, he's the only one still alive. He does each step in order, just as you've seen now. Then, he places the angel on the top of the tree-"

As she placed the angel, the entire scene became real. The room was no longer Professor Snape's office. It was a small, homely cottage, the wood floors warm around him. When he turned to watch the spirits fade into the wall, he noticed he was beside a huge fireplace, the mantle covered with Christmas cards. Stockings for each family member hung gently, even those who were no longer there. Professor Snape looked up from his spot beside the fire. Midnight's father, greyish from old age, stood back to look at the tree. He dabbed away a tear with his handkerchief.

"You did a brave thing by coming here," he said, glancing to Professor Snape. "She's been dead for four years, but the selfish Ministry uses her spirit for their own deeds. That's why they never told you. A friend told me," he said, chuckling darkly. "He went to a staff meeting and accidently walked right through her. He watched her grow up, and then he walked through her out of nowhere. He's locked up in St. Mungos now.

"And you're here. It's a long trip from Hogwarts, but I'm glad you're here. My wife died a year ago, and I've been alone ever since. I do this still, whether they're here or not. Someone has to keep them alive for the right reasons," he said, sighing gently. "Someone has to."

He moved into the kitchen to deal with a whistling kettle. Professor Snape blinked, and suddenly he was back in his office, the decorated tree still standing in the corner.

Emily grinned as he stood up from the floor. She handed him a small postcard before handing him a folder stamped with the Ministry's seal. Midnight's name was written on the cover underneath it.

When Professor Snape looked up from the delivery, she was gone. The decorations and the post card remained in her absence. He quickly realized he'd been under her powerful magic. She's shown him a future Christmas, this Christmas. The card was from her father. He couldn't do it alone, he said. He wanted Professor Snape to come for being such an influence on his daughter.

Professor Snape hid the folder for future use. He packed a bag and moved to Dumbledore's office to tell him the good news. He'd fly to Midnight's childhood home in southern Scotland for Christmas with her father. He'd fly there to enjoy the journey even further. He would finally enjoy companionship at Christmas, letting the past remain the past until he conjured it back by doing nothing at all.


End file.
